


A Sanguine Sacrament

by EternityCode



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Angst, Blood and Angst, Blood and Gore, Drabble, Gore, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kayn meets Zed, Kayn's backstory, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 21:57:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15805356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternityCode/pseuds/EternityCode
Summary: The boy shakes where he stands, dark eyes wide and unseeing. Bloodied hands grip the farming scythe with such an intensity, he can't feel it in his numbing palms. He thinks his face is numb too because he can't switch the stray maniacal emotion back to irrationally terrified. He grits his teeth, his eyes narrows in hysteria and everything that shatters; dried blood clumps his lashes-it's like what the nobility calls mascara, he muses- and dried blood creeps under his fingernails where it becomes an obnoxious reminder of what happened just minutes back. The coppery stench of death lingers in the hot, sun-scorched earth where the crows begin to sing.





	A Sanguine Sacrament

**Author's Note:**

> Mild Gore. Drabble (less than 2k words).

A Sanguine Sacrament

 

The boy shakes where he stands, dark eyes wide and unseeing. Bloodied hands grip the farming scythe with such an intensity, he can't feel it in his numbing palms. He thinks his face is numb too because he can't switch the stray maniacal emotion back to irrationally terrified. He grits his teeth, his eyes narrows in hysteria and everything that shatters; dried blood clumps his lashes-it's like what the nobility calls mascara, he muses- and dried blood creeps under his fingernails where it becomes an obnoxious reminder of what happened just minutes back. The coppery stench of death lingers in the hot, sun-scorched earth where the crows begin to sing.

He wants to vomit where he hyperventilates as he vaguely feels the blood- his or the Enemies, he can't tell- roll down his scraped and bruised face. It catches at the corner of his lips before it makes a breach for freedom, going drip-drop against the stained earth. He stares down, still unmoving as he exhales a shaky, questioning breath. Still his grip does not retract from the farming implement as he breathes again, before the sob catches in his throat- the scream, then the singular bark of mad laughter is what the world receives. He does it again because it feels damn right, both the screaming and the laughter. He crumbles to little pieces and he loves it because the world can go to smithereens.

Sometime after that episode, he can't feel anymore. He's more than just wounded and his head spins and his vision blurs where he stands. He can still see the flashes and the bangs, the firestorm of ash that hits the first wave of his comrades-all child soldiers, sacrifices for the greater good- and breaks limbs and shatters bone. He wishes that it broke him too, but still he is stronger and he compromises in his hilarious situation; the instinctual drive to live triumphs over every single other turmoil and lose thread in his mind. His mouth curls in a snarl and he stares down in disdain at the carcasses and bodies that litters the field. The smell really was getting to him and it was unsettling him with irritation.

A hand closes around his shoulder, a strong hand, and he curses himself for letting the stranger get so close. How had he gotten so close? It was like he slipped from the shadows and materialized behind the boy. With a harsh jerk, he turns on the man but the hand stays firm. With wide eyes and an expression that can cut, his mouth twitches and it's defiant, it's challenging and it's terrible, terrible. Red eyes pierce into his dark ones and it digs deep, burrows and festers. A blink, a singular blink is what he receives but the emotion is less than readable. He dips head in a greeting and the boy follows, a mutual sign of respect and the boy doesn't know, he doesn't know why he does it, but that masked man has an aura of confidence, of ruthless efficiency that appeals greatly.

“Your name?” The man asks simply.

“Kayn, Shieda Kayn,” the boy replies simply.

**Author's Note:**

> Eh, this one's quite short. To be honest, I gutted down the three parter and only included the beginning chunk because I wasn't sure if I wanted to post the rest. I felt like it wasn't really up to standards (even if it was over 6k words) in the same way I see the new Talon skin (enduring sword) so I just decided I'd rather have nothing instead of something bad. Oh right! Updates, updates updates: I'm no longer in Silver IV but was in Silver I but sadly tilted my way down to Silver III. I'm probably going to just Jungle or some shit at this rate. UPDATE: I don't even want to talk about it. Fuck Ranked this season.
> 
> This one is in more of my old writing style and I personally like it better than my once-new, now trashing style. I'm still trying to figure out what I like and the boring, long-ass descriptions just strikes true-this is why I'll suck at writing smut, wait was that a spoiler- and what can I say, it just appeals. Oh also? Yes, this was supposed to be my first smut piece but I chickened out so I didn't include it at all and instead you get the classic, solid block and a half of pure angst and gore. Less gore, more angst on this one.
> 
> \----------
> 
> Comments and Kudos are the form of self-inflating ego and love. Spread some of it around. <3


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